On February 13th, each participant will work privately to create one (1) traditionally structured Bingo card, featuring five rows and five columns, for a total of twenty-five squares. Then (with the exception of the Free Space in the center) participants will fill in each square with a written description of one Valentine’s Day cliché. This may be a gift, tradition, activity, or phrase (for example: “a dozen red roses,” “candlelit dinner,” “be my valentine,” etc.). All twenty-four squares must contain different clichés, and the items will be chosen and arranged at the participant’s discretion.
THE PARTICIPANTS MUST REFRAIN FROM RE-VEALING THEIR BINGO CARDS TO EACH OTHER FOR THE ENTIRE DURATION OF THE GAME. THIS IS OF CRITICAL, MONUMENTAL IMPORTANCE.
On February 14th, beginning at 8:00 a.m. EST, the participants (with no knowledge of the twenty-four items listed on each other’s Bingo cards) will engage in Valentine-themed clichés for the duration of the day. The goal for both participants will be to engage in a cliché listed on the other participant’s Bingo card.
If a participant enacts a cliché listed on the other participant’s card, the cardholder MUST mark off the item as complete. (So, for example, if Participant A’s square reads “a dozen red roses,” and Participant L presents Participant A, in real life, with a dozen red roses? Participant A must mark off that square on her Bingo card).
If either participant marks off five squares in a row, in any orientation (vertical, horizontal, or diagonal), this means the OTHER participant has successfully achieved Bingo. The cardholder must immediately notify the other participant of her Bingo status, thus ending the game.
So here’s the deal: If you win, I’ll agree to make precisely zero Valentine’s Day–themed posts on social media for the entire day. But, Leah, if I win? You’re posting a picture of every fucking teddy bear and piece of chocolate I give you.
So, Valentine, do you accept these terms?
(God, I can’t wait to watch Competitive Leah and Cliché-Avoidance Leah war it out all over your beautiful face.)
xoxo,
Abby
FROM: HOURTOHOUR.NOTETONOTE@GMAIL.COM
TO: BLUEGREEN118@GMAIL.COM
DATE: FEB 15 AT 9:13 PM
SUBJECT: RE: DID YOU SEE THIS?
RIGHT??? IT’S SO WEIRD. Do you think she got hacked?? Or possessed? Don’t get me wrong, it’s pretty freaking cute, but Leah Burke Instagramming her Valentine’s Day haul is the freshman year plot twist I didn’t see coming.
Anyway, I’m fine. It just sucked doing Valentine’s Day over FaceTime. Which is ridiculous, because I don’t even care that much about Valentine’s Day! Being apart on our anniversary was definitely worse. But it’s all kind of cumulative, I guess. I just miss you on top of missing you on top of missing you.
But I’m trying SO hard. I had a snowball fight with both Jacobs, and I’ve crashed every single one of Rachel and Liza’s a cappella rehearsals. I’ve been grabbing lunch after psych every day with Skyler. I’m watching every weird fucking horror movie Kellan puts on, and I’m playing violent video games with Jocelyn (even though she keeps killing me right when I respawn, she’s so ruthless). I guess it all seems so trivial when I write it out like that. But I don’t really know what else to do. If I’m going to be here, I should try to be here, you know? I have to let it be my real life.
I don’t know, B. I guess I’m figuring some stuff out.
But Bram, I want to know everything you’re up to. I want to know if you’re making snowmen, and stargazing, and eating barbecued dinosaurs, and watching weird performance art with Ella and Miriam, and befriending more makeup gurus. I want you to tell me every detail of your soccer games so I can nod along and pretend I understand what scrimmages and corner kicks are. Just be happy, okay? I want you to miss me, and think about me, and be in love with me, and be happy.
FROM: BLUEGREEN118@GMAIL.COM
TO: HOURTOHOUR.NOTETONOTE@GMAIL.COM
DATE: FEB 16 AT 11:10 AM
SUBJECT: RE: DID YOU SEE THIS?
Dear Jacques,
You know, I always forget your emails have the ability to take my breath away.
I’m so bewildered by it. It’s just symbols and white space, and it’s affecting my basic biological functions. I think your keyboard must have some kind of direct link to my brain.
That last sentence.
Simon, let me be clear: I miss you. I think about you. I’m in love with you. Happiness is a shifting variable, but those are my constants.
I think you’re right to carve out a Real Life at school. That’s the healthy thing, right? I’m trying, too, though I don’t know if my Real Life is as exciting as you’re imagining. No snowmen so far, and I don’t know that stargazing is a thing in Manhattan. ☺ But I’m hanging out a lot with Ella and Miriam, and they are most certainly roping me into ALL the weird performance art. I don’t know if I’d say I’ve befriended Alec, but we’ve grabbed dinner a few times, and he keeps offering to do my makeup. Simon, how do I tell a beauty guru with half a million followers that I’m into makeup like the Pentecostal Church is into makeup? But I bet he’ll give you Troye Sivan eyes when you’re here in March, if you want (I promise I’ll wear my soccer knee socks for you if you do). You know everyone here is desperate to meet you, right?
And I don’t know what you’re figuring out, Simon, but if you ever need to talk it through, I’m all yours. But you know that.
And I miss you on top of missing you on top of missing you too.
Love,
Blue
FROM: SIMONIRVINSPIER@GMAIL.COM
TO: ABBYSUSO710@GMAIL.COM
DATE: MAR 8 AT 4:17 PM
SUBJECT: RE: HELLO, SUNSHINE!!
Abby, I’m a DISASTER—I can’t believe I’m writing back to you a month late. I know. I know we’ve texted and WhatsApped a zillion times since then, but ugh, I’m still so sorry. And here you had so many really lovely questions for me that are all wildly out of date. But in case you’re for some
